you never know
by saltatrix puella
Summary: insight into archetypal hero figure - hero's pov. mild language. first attempt at writing on this site, R&R appreciated!


You never know what you have lost until you no longer have it.

People had been telling me that for as long as I can remember, but I had heard it so many times I had stopped paying attention. Until I lost everything. But by then, of course, it was too late and I descended into the world of 'what if?'. I can tell you now that the magical land of 'what if?', once visited, continues to cut the soul with infinite barbs, each one a lure back to that land of broken souls and shattered hopes. Sounds poetic doesn't it? Pain, pure and simple pain is what you get from 'what if?'. And the worst part is that it is self inflicted...after all you are the person that knows best how to hurt yourself. I don't expect you to believe me of course, there are some things that everyone has to find out on their own. I just hope that your journey of discovery doesn't cost you as much as mine cost me, and those I loved.

'Be content, you have a roof over your head and food on the table. Don't go looking for trouble, you have a good life here, what more do you need?'. That's what everyone said when I told them I had itchy feet. Did I listen? Of course not, that would have been sensible wouldn't it? Instead I went off and wandered to 'find my fortune', refusing to see that my fortune was right there, in front of me. I was so stupid! So childish, to think that over every hill and round every bend there was a new and brighter future waiting for me. I saw the world as a place of light and rainbows, the people at home the ropes restraining me from spreading my metaphorical wings and soaring into the bright colours to meet the sparkling diamond of my destiny. I was such a child! A spoilt, headstrong child, so convinced that he is right, despite the counsel of those more acquainted with the world than he is.

Reality soon hit home though. And it hit hard. Its very hard to find decent employment when everyone distrusts strangers so much. It never happens in books. In books people may be distrustful but there is always one kind soul ready to take in the hero, give him the chance he needs. Reality, however, seems to have eradicated, crushed and annihilated all kindness. I eventually found a job, nothing fancy, just stacking shelves in a supermarket, night shifts because no one else wanted them, and they were the only ones I could get. I'd finish work just as all the successful people started their day. We passed like ships in the night, as the saying goes. More like they pushed me out the way without even glancing in my direction. All the stories I read in my childhood, about people noticing potential and taking an interest in the welfare of the world, all bullshit. The lot of it.

My soul finally succumbed to the disease of city living. People aren't meant to live in such large groups. Small groups of people band together to guide and protect, help and support, like in the village I came from. In the city there is no possible way you can do that for everyone you live with. So the opposite happens. People close themselves off and become withdrawn and selfish. Oh they become so selfish. And that began to happen to me.

Then I met her.

She was an angel of heaven come to teach us all what beauty was. She was as close to perfection as it is possible to be and not blind those who behold it. She was a successful business woman. You could tell by the perfect and highly fashionable suit and the envious looks cast her way by those who knew about such things. And she was kind and generous too. The first time we met was on the train. She sat next to me and as she sat, she smiled. At me, not at a point three feet above my head so she didn't have to look at me, but actually looking into my eyes! I remember thinking that my dreams were finally about to come true. That the world of light and rainbows was about to come and replace the one of dust and dry wind that I had accidentally stumbled into instead.

Oh how wrong could I be?

I never spoke to this angel of light, despite seeing her six times in the next week. Not that I was counting. I resolved to speak to her many, many times. Then, when I saw her, I realised how grubby and shabby I looked, sitting next to this goddess of immaculate attire.

Circumstances beyond my control (I ran out of money) forced me to return to the village where I had been born. However, jaded by my foray into civilization and unwilling to admit that my family had been right all along, I told them that I had come back because I had found that I could not live without the one I had come to realise was my true love. Actually she was a girl who had had a crush on me since as far back as I could remember...we'd grown up together. I thought it was reasonable to assume that she hadn't found anyone else in the time I'd been away, and I was right. She was over the moon, and I was almost sick with the amount of bullshit I had to spout about always having loved her really and just not realising it until I left. I made it sound like one of the books I used to be so fond of...before I learned what reality was really like. Now I'm all set to marry her tomorrow and her father asked me if I had any regrets. My answer was no of course.

At least to him.

I regret not being brave enough to speak to the angel on the train. Who knows where I'd be now if I had plucked up the courage to speak to her. Not here that's for sure. I could have been living the kind of life that I'd read about in my once precious books. Instead I'm a bitter man about to marry an annoying girl I don't particularly like, just to save face. If only I could go back and tell the angel that I loved her.

But this isn't a story, unfortunately it's reality and in reality you don't always get another chance to say the things you left out the first time round.

What if I had never left? Or if I had done things differently? Or told the truth when I got back...

What then?


End file.
